Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Norway and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eve St. Jones to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June Days,
Basic Channel,
F. McDonald,
Swans,
The Barracudas,
Jeff Lynne,
Marine Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Gabor Szabo,
Warren Ellis,
The Tremeloes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blossom Toes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
Boredoms,
The Techniques,
R.M.O.,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultra Naté,
Toni Rubio,
Radiohead,
The Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ossler,
Lou Reed,
Q and Not U,
Model 500,
Easy Going,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shoche,
Bobby Sherman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang On A Can,
Aloha Tigers,
The Monochrome Set,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Vainqueur,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Patti Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
World's Most,
Neu!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warsaw,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Vogues,
Todd Rundgren,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fall,
This Heat,
Sam Rivers,
The Slackers,
Sister Nancy,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.